William Stout wasn’t just an automotive engineer. In fact, the man billed as the “father of modern aviation” had a series of aeronautical credits to his name, including the first commercially available monoplane with a cantilevered, internally braced wing (known as the “Bat Wing”). Stout was also the first to promote an all-metal airplane, viewing this as a superior alternative to the stretched-fabric-over-wood-frame construction so popular in the early decades of the 20th Century. Ultimately, however, Stout thrived on taking existing designs and improving upon them, and the lessons he learned from aeronautical engineering ultimately led him to design one of the most remarkable vehicles of the 20th century: the Stout Scarab.

Calling it the very first minivan hardly does the Stout Scarab justice. Built without compromise for the fortunate few who could afford the $5,000 price of admission in 1934 (roughly the equivalent of $87,000 today), the Scarab boasted innovative features like fenders incorporated into the body, deleted running boards, rear wheel skirts, hidden hinges and flush glass, all meant to optimize airflow and reduce wind noise. The cabin featured amenities like a dust filter to ensure that cabin occupants enjoyed pollen-free motoring, ambient lighting, heating controlled via thermostat, power door locks and leather seating that could be repositioned to fit around a rear-cabin table (except for the driver’s seat, which was fixed in position). While the driver’s door was conventionally located, all passengers entered and exited via a centrally-mounted passenger door, allowing easy entry to front or rear seats.

Stout had a history with the Ford Motor Company (which had purchased the Stout Metal Airplane Company, ultimately leading to the production of the Stout-designed Ford Tri-Motor), so Ford mechanicals were chosen for the Scarab. A flathead V-8 was mounted flywheel-forward atop the rear wheels for enhanced traction (and additional cabin space), and output was said to be 95 horsepower and 154 pound-feet of torque. A three-speed manual transmission provided acceleration that was reasonable for the day (0-60 MPH in 15 seconds, according to a review in Special Interest Autos), especially in light of the Scarab’s size. Despite its 195.5-inch length and 72.25 inch height, the Scarab weighed just 3,300 pounds, but it could have been even lighter. The first prototype, constructed in 1932, used aluminum for the upper body and magnesium for the doors, but these materials were deemed cost-prohibitive for production versions. When the first production Scarab was constructed in 1934, it carried a steel body mounted on a steel space frame.

Underneath, the Scarab used independent lower control arms, coil springs and “oleo” struts up front, accompanied by independent swing axles, unequal-length upper and lower control arms, transverse leaf springs, “oleo” struts and upper and lower trailing arms in the rear. Brakes were hydraulic, and cast-iron drums were used in each corner. Words like “smooth” and “stable” were often used to describe the ride of the Stout, which was the exact intention of its creator, who saw it as the ideal vehicle for stress-free cross-country family journeys.

Some say the Scarab was styled by John Tjaarda, the same designer behind the Briggs Dream Car concept that would ultimately morph into the 1936 Lincoln Zephyr, while other believe the Scarab was merely influenced by Tjaarda’s earlier designs. Meant to resemble the beetle for which it was named, the Stout borrowed heavily from the streamlining style book, a growing element of Art Deco design at the time the Scarab was penned. Though the Scarab’s lines were considered controversial at the time of its highly publicized debut, the Stout is now considered to be an iconic Art Deco vehicle, from its Egyptian-themed front grille to its flowing and elaborate rear metal work.

It’s believed that nine Stout Scarab models, each with a slightly different interior layout, were constructed by the Stout Motor Car Company between 1934 and 1939. Initial sales were by invitation only (as the Scarab was always intended to be a low-production model, with a target production of just 100 units per year), and the list of buyers read like a “Who’s Who” of America’s wealthiest and most influential citizens. The Firestone family had one, as did the Wrigleys (of Wrigley chewing gum notoriety), the Dows (of Dow Chemical) and the Stranahans (founders of Champion Spark Plugs); despite this early attempt at marketing to key influencers (several of whom were on the board of Stout Motor Company), most potential customers could justify neither the Scarab’s quirky styling nor its stratospheric selling price.

World War II interrupted any further development or marketing of the original Scarab, but Stout returned with a new version, called the Stout Scarab Experimental (or Stout Project Y), in 1946. In addition to more contemporary and conventional (i.e., sedan-like) styling, the Project Y boasted the first use of a fiberglass body and a fully pneumatic suspension, but never saw production. Given the company’s low production volumes, the Project Y would have been priced beyond the means of most potential buyers, with some estimating a required selling price of $10,000.

Of the nine Stout Scarabs that were produced, five are known to survive today. Several have high mileage (Stout himself reportedly racked up some 250,000 miles on his own Scarab), a testament to how practical the design would ultimately prove to be. When the era of the minivan finally did arrive in America, many of the Scarab’s pioneering ideas (side entry passenger door, flexible seating, absence of a driveshaft tunnel to maximize interior room) were incorporated, proving that William Stout’s unconventional design had merit. As was often the case with Stout’s ideas, the Scarab offered a glimpse into the future that few could see back in 1934.

29 Responses to “Cars of Futures Past – Stout Scarab”

For those of you within driving distance of Nashville, TN., the Frist Center for the Visual Arts is presenting a show entitled “Sensuous Steel,” now through September 15th. Curated by well-known historian Ken Gross, the show features this Scarab as well as the Hispano-Suiza Dubonnet “Xenia” coupe, a Bugatti and a Delahaye both penned by Figoni et Falaschi, Edsel Ford’s 1934 Speedster, and a dozen other
stunning examples of Art Deco design. Don’t miss it! info at:http://www.fristcenter.org/artdecoauto.

Yes. I’ve been doing research on the history of Lake Jackson, Texas, which is a company town on the Gulf Coast built during WWII by Dow Chemical Company. While “master-planned communities” are quite common today, this was one of the first ones and it was designed by one of the Dow sons, architect Alden B. Dow. There’s a picture of Alden’s Stout Scarab parked on the muddy street across from his office in
’42 – ’43.

Thanks for the excellent article on one of great American innovators of the early Twentieth Century. I’m curious about two of the points in your story. 1) The notion that Stout was not an automotive engineer strikes seems as counter to his resume. Although he became well known for his aeronautical designs, he cut his teeth designing pioneering road-bound vehicles. By the 19-teens, he was known for the truck articles he wrote for Motor Age. He also was among the most ardent promoters of cyclecars, having designed the Imp for W.H. McIntyre, and his own Stout cyclecar prototype. He then went on to design the attractive and successful line of Scripps-Booth light cars. In fact, he soon became one of the most inflluential automobile engineers in the country, presiding over Detroit’s Society of Automotive Engineers. 2) I’m also intrigued by the claim that John Tjaarda designed the Scarab. Although I’ve seen several such posts on the web, I’ve never been able to track down the authoritative source. The two men had very different design philosophies. Stout promoted the “turtle” approach to streamlining, whereas Tjaarda promoted the “fish” approach. Can you please cite the source of the Tjaarda reference?

Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so literal in saying that Stout wasn’t an automotive engineer, so I have rephrased this to read that he wasn’t “just” an automotive engineer. His contributions to aviation, however, are arguably more significant than his contributions to the automotive industry.

As for the Tjaarda reference, I could not unearth the source used when I penned the article in June; it likely came from one of the reference books in our library, but I’ve been unable to pin down the particular one. Since there are conflicting theories (one that Tjaarda designed the Scarab and a second that Tjaarda’s earlier designs influenced the styling of the Scarab), I have amended the article accordingly.

Kurt, thank you for amending the article. I’m a lifelong fan of Stout and have become disappointed in recent years to see his automotive masterpiece being credited to Tjaarda. Perhaps over time some evidence will surface to put the question to rest. As a related point of interest, in addition to the four industrial giants who owned Scarabs back in the day, Detroit industrial designer Ray Russell also owned one. Russell was so inspired by the design that built several similar cars during World War II with plywood bodies (since metal was reserved for the war effort). Russell’s Scarab was recently restored and is now often incorrectly identified as having been owned by a Frenchman overseas. Russell’s car was different from the others in the ventilation treatment behind the rear quarter windows…it was fitted with three ventilation “pods” on each side. Again, thanks for publishing your well written story about Stout and his Scarabs. I would love to have one in my garage!

Lynn, the short answer is “yes.” In 2010, the Project Y was part of a temporary exhibit at the Petersen Museum. Someone here suggested it may reside at the Gilmore Museum, but I could find nothing to confirm this.

August of 2012 I was at the “Woodward Dream Cruise” north of Detroit. There was a Stout Scarab driving down the road. I only saw it one time, snapped a great picture of it. That was by far the best picture and vehicle I saw there in the four years I have gone. This same year, we went to the Gilmore Museum, the black Stout pictured above is in the Gilmore, this is how it is displayed there with the information board in front. I also took this same pic of the above vehicle. One is also in the Owl’s Head Museum in Maine.

The styling of the Stout Scarab was done by an Industrial Designer named Lester Johnson. He was originally hired to design the interior. In addition, Johnson also drew up a rendering of what he thought the car should look like. He was on his way to drop off the proposal to Stout, however Stout was in a meeting with Willard Dow, going over other exterior design proposal. Johnson left the sketch on Stouts desk and Dow just happened to see it and liked it. He said, well why didnt tou show me this? I’d buy that. This was also the first time Stout had seen this design.
Johnson’s design can be seen in the ad placed in Fortune Magazine. Dow became the first investor to purchase a Stout Scarab. (Serial #2)

As for the door configuration, it varied from car to car. They all had a drivers door. The passenger door location on some was only in the rear. On one it is in the front where the passenger door normally would be. Another had the door moved to the center section. And one vehicle had three doors, a drivers door, and on the passenger side, one in the rear and one in front.

The Scarabs are all tubular framed (like an airplane fuse lodge ), aluminum from the belt up, and steel from the belt down. The doors, instrument panel and seat frames are all cast magnesium. As Dow Chemicals was an investor.

Steven, thanks very much for setting the record straight regarding exactly who designed the Scarab. According to Stout’s autobiography, “And Away I Flew”, Stout designed the prototype in 1933 by drawing a life size image in chalk on the floor. The internal metal skeleton was then shaped on the drawing. Stout admitted that the prototype was not particularly attractive, and that one side was actual a half inch shorter than the other side. I would guess Lester Johnson was engaged in the design of the production version, which was considerably more sophisticated than the prototype. If possible, please post one more time to this sequence and cite the source of your information on Johnson. Then, someone can update the Wikipedia page on Bill Stout, which currently incorrectly attributes the design to John Tjaarda, linking only to a period magazine article in which both Stout and Tjaarda are quoted about rear-engine cars. Thanks very much.

To further compound this question, author Rich Taylor provided a different insight into the Scarab’s design source in an article published in Hemmings Special Interest Autos way back in issue Number 32. Taylor stated, “A designer named Gaston was unfortunately employed in September 1934 to restyle the Scarab with ill-chosen encrustations including a front ‘moustache’ and grilles over the headlights.” A photo of the original concept sketches signed by Gaston is included in the article. The caption chided, “Scarab II was ‘styled’ by Gaston in 1934, came out like a cross between Chrysler’s Airflop and Electrolux vacuum. Most frills were deleted by Stout.” Ironically, the design elements which Taylor most criticized are now considered by many to be integral with the Scarab’s charms.

Correct, Lester Johnson’s sketch was the base of the production car. The source of my information is Johnson’s daughter. My father met her while he was on the Great Race with the car. She approached him and told him how her fathers sketch became the actual desgined of the Scarab and the story behind it. She also gave him a copy of the original signed drawing of the Scarab. This is the drawing used in the Fortune magazine add. I’m sure there were other styling influences incorporated in the final design. Ie. Gaston’s front “Moustache” which is actually an extension of the center beetles wings that acts as an intake for the flow thru ventilation system. There is a register on top of the dash when open allows fresh air to enter the cabin thru the “Moustache” or wings directing it towards the ceiling and out the rear window. As long as the car is moving it is very comfortable inside. There are a lot of styling cues on the Scarab that make the car as a whole very functional. The grilles over the headlights are one of the few designs that serve simply as an added aesthetic to the overall design of the vehicle.

I also had the great pleasure of meeting your father on the Great Race. I told him about a friend of mine, Jake Drake, who had been a high school intern at Stout Laboratories. Sharing Jake’s stories earned me a ride in your father’s Scarab…certainly one of the highlights of my life! Your father and I exchanged a few letters in the ’80s. After Jake passed away, I acquired his original shapshots of the Stout Sky Car being loaded for delivery. I would welcome the chance to visit more with you and your father via email. Dan Strohl (Hemmings editor) has my contact information if you’d like to connect.

Always a pleasure reading about the Stout Scarab. I found mine sitting in a yard outside a auto repair shop. After I bought it I saw it was in very bad shape. I did what I could and dismantled it for restoration. While apart I saw certain parts were missing. I heard that Bill Harrah had one and as luck would have it, Bill Harrah was at Hershey with stuff to sell off his table. I asked him if still had the Scarab and he said yes, but it was in very poor shape, He gave me a business card of his to give to museum people to let me go where ever I wanted and look at all his cars. I stiil have that special badge. I took many pics of the Scarab whitch helped a lot. He also let me look at the Jaguar XK-SS which he bought from Steve McQueen.At that time I had an XK-SS also. Later I sold the Scarab to a collector in Milwaukee who did a good restoration on it. It has been shown at many events, glad I was able to save it.